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“I don’t know anything!” I burst out. “I’ve never heard of Invictus?—”
“Invicta,” Nat cuts in.
“Or The Brotherhood! You guys keep accusing me of knowing things and not believing me when I say that I don’t know!”
“Can you blame us?” Nat asks loudly, walking around me like a predator would its prey. “Two of the most powerful Mafia families are after you, and you somehow don’t know who they are? That’s very hard to believe.”
My blood runs cold. “M–Mafia? I thought those ended with Al Capone.”
Nat tips her head back and laughs loudly. “No.”
Suddenly, some pieces fall into place. Damian in his suit. The guns. The fancy car. Nat calling herself the underboss. My stomach twists and my mouth dries. “You’re part of the Mafia too, aren’t you?”
“Very good, Alexis,” Nat says, her eyes alight with cold amusement. “You’ve finally figured it out. A-plus work. Haven’t you ever heard of The Godfather? We’re kind of similar.”
Horror bubbles up in me and my hands start to shake. “I–Is Damian going to kill me?”
Instead of assuring me that Damian would never, I’m horrified to see Nat shrug instead. “Depends.”
“Depends on what?” I ask fearfully.
Nat smirks and folds her arms across her chest, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “Depends on whether you’ll be an asset or a liability. You’re worth quite a bit of money to The Brotherhood, and I imagine to Invicta, too. It would be very easy to turn you over to either organization and let them duel to the death for you.”
“Have you killed anyone?” I don’t know if I want an answer. Somehow, I think getting killed by Damian would be less painless than a death by Nat.
Her smile unnerves me. I’m going to throw up. My stomach heaves, and I press a hand to my mouth. A bead of sweat trickles down my back.
“But you’ve asked too many questions. Now, it’s my turn.” Nat perches on the bed, ignoring my distress. “You claim you know nothing about The Brotherhood, but can you think of any reason they want you so badly?”
“No,” I answer honestly, my mouth tasting like pennies. “I don’t know. I'm nobody.”
Nat snorts and impatiently gestures to the rope ladder. “I highly doubt that based on your rope work. I also don’t buy your ‘poor little old me’ act. You’re a wolf in sheep’s clothing, Alexis. Fucking embrace it.”
I don’t know what to say to that. I want to tell her she’s wrong, but I don’t think she would appreciate it.
“Is your boyfriend trying to sell you?” Nat asks bluntly, gesturing to my bruised face. “The Brotherhood is known for their human trafficking proclivities.”
She says this all so matter-of-factly, like she’s discussing the weather instead of talking about organizations using human beings as chattel. I envy her—not for how she’s discussing something as abhorrent as human trafficking—but for her confidence and self-assurance. It’s a fire I wish burned within me, instead of feeling meek and timid.
“Well?” Nat asks, eyes searching mine. “Are you going to answer my question or not?”
Irritation courses through me. What is it with everyone fucking demanding answers from me? They don’t deserve to know everything.
“Maybe if you shut up for five goddamn seconds, I’ll feel obligated to answer one,” I shoot back before I realize what I’m saying.
Silence envelopes the room as I snap my mouth shut, my heart beating a staccato in my chest. Fuck. Nat’s going to kill me for that.
Nat’s eyes widen at my outburst before a wide, unnerving smile breaks across her face. “Very good, Alexis,” she purrs. “See? You are more than a wallflower.”
I again don’t know what to say. I’m relieved that Nat didn’t take offense to my retort, but I’m also not sure whether she insulted me or complimented me.
“Based on that very defensive response,” Nat continues, her smile similar to a Cheshire cat, “I’m going to say yes, your boyfriend was trying to sell you.”
My shoulders slump, and it suddenly feels like the weight of the world is pressing on me. The full understanding of what Mark and the Carters tried to do finally hits me, and I burst into tears. I feel so small, so insignificant, and I suddenly miss my mother more than anything. What I wouldn’t do to be wrapped in her arms and her telling me everything was going to be okay.
I feel a presence standing next to me and a hand rests on my shoulder. Nat gazes at me with compassion. Suddenly embarrassed, I swipe away the tears at my display of emotion. What must Nat think of me…
I don’t know why I suddenly want Nat’s approval. Maybe it’s because Nat is poised and confident, everything I aspire to be, or because Nat has an aura of authority that came not just from her position as the underboss, but from an inner strength and self-assurance.
